Beloved (49 page)

Last night.

Two loud beeps of a horn sent Jane jumping out of her reverie. She turned to see a car she didn
'
t recognize pull into the drive. It was Mrs. Adamont
'
s; she was delivering Gwendolyn Drew to Lilac Cottage, four days
early.

Mrs. Adamont rolled down her window and greeted Jane.
"
I was just getting off work at the A&P when I overheard Mrs. Drew directing a cab to your place.
'
Well, why should she pay good money?
'
I said to myself. So here you are. Cheerio, Jane. I
'
ll see you Saturday night.
"

She and Jane
'
s mother exchanged good-bye pleasantries and then the elderly woman backed her Dodge out of the drive, leaving Jane standing there in a state that best could be described as psychologically naked. Jane always liked to have some warning before her mother
'
s arrivals so that she could put on the best linens and set out flowers in the guest room, lay in some decent wine and good cheese, clean up the place, clean up her self, and have something from the
New York Times
nonfiction bestseller list sitting on the coffee table.

She wasn
'
t ready
—
he
'
d never be ready
—
for a visit from her mother.

M
other! What a surprise this is!
"

"
Darling, what a mess you are!
"
Gwendolyn said, brushing her daughter
'
s cheek with her lips.
"
Your hair has grown absolutely wild.
"

"
I
'
ve been awfully busy,
"
Jane said, rearranging the tangles.

Her mother added,
"
And your nails!
"

"
Mother, I
'
m rehabbing a house, not writing poetry,
"
Jane said testily.
"
It
'
s very physical work.
"

"
The only thing that needs rehabbing around here is you, dear heart,
"
said her mother, squeezing her affectionately as they walked back toward the cottage.
"
How
'
ve you been? I
'
ve missed your calls.
"

Jane took her suitcase and said,
"
I
'
m sorry I haven
'
t done more. But this whole
Nantucket
thing has turned very
... well ..
. intense.
You
look wonderful, Mother,
"
Jane added, and it was true: as usual, not a hair was out of place.
"
What brings you to
Nantucket
early?
"

Her mother caught the gentle reproach.
"
I should
'
ve called you, I know, when I found myself in
New York
. But I didn
'
t want you fussing at the last minute; no notice seemed better than short notice.
"

Jane laughed at her mother
'
s whimsical logic.
"
Why were you in
New York
?
"

"
Another funeral. Do you remember Earl Simton? We used to belong to the same club. He keeled over; just like that. Your father is devastated. After all, Earl was five years younger than he is.
"

"
I
'
m sorry to hear that. Where
'
s Dad now?
"

"
He
'
s determined not to waste the trip East; he
'
s lined up meetings right through the weekend.
"

"
Oh. So he won
'
t be coming to
Nantucket
, of course,
"
Jane said, trying not to sound as if it mattered.

A look of sudden sympathy crossed her mother
'
s face.
"
Oh, sweetheart, you know he would if he could. But he
'
s been so busy; the company
'
s restructuring
—
"

"
Sure. I understand. Well, anyway
—
close your eyes,
"
Jane said, wanting to get off the subject. She flung open the relocated but not yet repainted front door and led her mother into the house by the hand. Gwendolyn Drew opened her eyes. A look of surprised delight washed over her face, the look a mother has when her daughter gets all her lines right in her first school play.

"
Jane! It
'
s wonderful!
"

Her mother walked slowly around the room, soaking up its light and airy presence. Jane wanted the look of a Victorian conservatory, and she had succeeded. Bright tulips in vases set off the bird-of-paradise pattern on the ivory wallpaper, lending them their own real fragrance. Old but solid wicker furniture that Jane had tracked down through an
Inquirer
ad and sprayed deep green looked as if it had been there from the start. Jane had sewn cushion covers in complementary colors, then added a big rag rug and potted palms to tie it all together. The room wasn
'
t finished yet— the long, sparkling clean windows were unadorned—but it was on its way.

"
I didn
'
t mean to buy any furnishings, but once I got the wicker so cheap
—
well, one thing led to another. I just thought the place might sell better if it looked lived in,
"
Jane said guiltily. And then she thought,
Why am I apologizing?

"
I must say, this is nothing like your
Connecticut
condo,
"
Gwendolyn mused, looking at her daughter curiously.

"
I
'
m
nothing like my
Connecticut
condo
—
not anymore. I can
'
t imagine l
iving in that stark
box. I
'
m not a study in trendy off-whites anymore, Mother. I want a little more softness in my life; I want a little more charm.
"

"
You
'
re being too hard on the condo, I think. It was elegant, sophisticated, and yes, it did suggest a woman on the way up. Does this new look have something to do with your abandoning your career?
"
her mother asked shrewdly.

"
I haven
'
t abandoned my career,
"
Jane said, irritated.
"
My career has abandoned me. Anyway, I
will
be going back into advertising
—
but it
'
ll be on my own terms. Once I
'
ve sold Lilac Cottage, I
'
ll have the money to finance my own agency. I
'
ve explained all that.
"

"
And yet you don
'
t seem in any particular hurry,
"
Gwendolyn couldn
'
t help remarking. She trailed a manicured nail across a pillow of polished sea cotton.
"
Sewing cushion covers?
"

"
Okay, okay, I got a little distracted there,
"
Jane admitted.
"
But I almost can
'
t help myself. I haven
'
t enjoyed anything this much since my watercolor classes at RISD. Maybe Bing is right; maybe I ought to go into interior design,
"
she said on their way to the kitchen.

"
Bing? The man next door? Will I be meeting this Bing?
"

"
Probably,
"
Jane said vaguely. She wasn
'
t ready to get into Bing with her mother, not until she
'
d sorted out her own mixed feelings about him.
"
He
'
ll be back on the island Friday or early Saturday.
"

"
Good. Oh! Darling,
what
a difference!
"
her mother said as they entered the sun-drenched kitchen.
"
It
'
s the same, and yet it
'
s not the same at all. Really. How very nice. The only misstep that I can see,
"
she said,
"
is keeping that old porcelain sink. You
'
ll never sell the place without a dishwasher and twin basins.
"

"
Maybe; but I enjoy washing dishes in the same sink that Aunt Sylvia used. It gives me a sense of
—
don
'
t know
— continuity.
"

Gwendolyn laughed and said,
"
Well, you haven
'
t had much of
that.
Many sinks ago I thought your father and I might actually live our lives in
Delaware
; that was before you were born. We had a nice old house with an apple tree and lots of land. We were so young then, and life was so simple,
"
she said wistfully.
"
But,
that was then and this is now. So,
"
she said, shaking off the memory,
"
what did you do to the bathroom?
"

They surveyed the white-on-white bathroom, which was unchanged except for paint and bright towels, and then moved on to the scene of last night
'
s traumas. The room clearly was not at its best. The tired old wallpaper and dark, eccentric furnishings
—
a
nd the gooey mess on the rug —
were a shocking contrast to the pristine airiness of the rest of the downstairs.

"
Jane! You haven
'
t touched this room!
"
her mother said, surprised. She walked around it slowly, pausing at the mess for an explanation.

"
A little chimney flare-up, that
'
s all,
"
Jane mumbled.
"
I should
'
ve used a screen.
"

Gwendolyn spied the tarot cards still arranged on the little gaming table exactly as she and Jane had seen them the day of the funeral. She went up to the table and said,
"
My God. You haven
'
t changed a thing, have you? You
'
ve turned this room into a shrine.
"

"
Really, Mother, you make me sound like Miss Haversham. I just haven
't
got around to it yet.
"

Jane was still convinced that the tarot cards held some kind of clue to Judith
'
s dilemma. With a little more time and a little more study, she might be able to break the code.

"
This isn
'
t right, Jane,
"
her mother said, upset.
"
This really isn
'
t.
"
To Jane
'
s horror, she scooped up the cards and dropped the deck into her handbag.
"
Sylvia
'
s dead, and what she was or wasn
'
t isn
'
t your concern.
"

"
Mother
!"
Jane cried, appalled.
"
I
'
m not eight years old this time! I
'
m an adult, and what I do or don
'
t do isn
'
t
your
concern!
"